


private school girls

by nightrain (pyxz)



Category: BLACKPINK (Band), TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, this is a wip!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 18:26:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyxz/pseuds/nightrain
Summary: the average korean student has a 16-hour school day (aka private school girls who compete over everything but are secretly hooking up.)





	private school girls

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by this https://twitter.com/jenyeons/status/858757127552344065 ...... its been a wip for a year but i just like it so much i'm crossposting it here : )

The weeks before the Academic Decathlon are some of the most toxic. There's always so much to study, so much to cover, so much to do. Practices run all the way to ten o'clock and no one ever gets to eat. Everyone's tired. Everyone's cranky. Even drivers have bags under their eyes from all the waiting.  
  
Right behind a black Range Rover, a silver Benz, and a red Chevy, a sleek black Sedan sits right under the science building's steps as it always does on weekday nights--JNN reads the license plate, and a girl with pin-straight dark brown hair down to her waist and lips as red as murder takes her sweet time going down the fifty-two steps leading to the car. In her arms, she cradles four books and a thick binder, Gucci backpack on her shoulders brown-red-and-green against the red-black-and-white of her uniform, feet tired and mind reeling from all the fractions and the square roots and the limits. Monday nights are Math nights, and she has always been better at English.  
  
The driver sees her from the corner of his eye, and he immediately steps out and around to open the door for her. "Ms. Jennie," he smiles and bows his head, and it takes almost every drop of energy she has left to give a small smile and a little bow back. Jennie knows he won't care for it--Jun, her now 48-year-old driver, has been with her family since she was a toddler, and has never asked for anything from her--but there are so few people she would ever expend energy to smile for, anyway. He closes the door behind her and places her books on the passenger seat while she collapses in the back and falls asleep.  
  
Poor girl, he always thinks. Poor little rich girl.

 

+++

 

Statistics say that the average South Korean student has a 16-hour school day. Nayeon knows this because Mondays are Current Events days, and because statistics is bullshit.  
  
Here are the facts: her school day starts at 4 A.M. Homeroom is at 8, but she lives all the way across the district and has to bathe, cook breakfast, eat breakfast, feed her little brother, and set her mother's alarm before she leaves. She irons her clothes and prepares her things the night before to save time. If there's anything living in the middle class has taught her, it's that prevention is the best solution. Prepare, prepare, prepare--sometimes her life feels like an endless reel of preparing for one thing, then another, then another, then another.  
  
She has to buy cookies at the bakery and be at the bus station by 6 or she'll have to take a cab, which costs money she doesn't have the luxury to spend. The bus ride to Songpa Gardens--a gated community for the district's elite--takes at least thirty minutes, and at most forty-five. By 7, she's bribing the guard with cookies, and by 7:15, she's at her boyfriend's doorstep. Nayeon rings the doorbell. Bambam's parents are gone for the week, again, so there's less shame to feel for standing alone on a very big sidewalk in front of a very big house.  
  
She takes the time to powder her nose and reapply her orange-flavored lipgloss. After another minute, the gigantic gates open, and Bambam's flashy orange Lambo rolls out into the street. Nayeon tosses her compact into her bag and steps in, the doors of the car opening upwards and closing downwards automatically. "Hey, babe," as he usually does, he leans across the passenger seat to kiss her good morning, sliding his hand behind the back of her neck. It's never a casual kiss, always turning harder and longer, until she reaches up and strokes his face, runs her fingers through his hair, tongue almost at the edge of his lips. Sometimes he pushes past her teeth and sometimes he breaks it off. Today, he breaks it off, sealing it with one last sweet, quick kiss before driving off.  
  
From the corner of her eye, she can see him licking his lips, looking pensive. "S'that orange, Na'?" he says, and she can never be sure if he's pleased or not.  
  
"Yeah," she replies, grinning slightly, "Guess where I got it."  
  
He takes another moment to look thoughtful before a bright smile stretches across his face. "S'that the one I got you last week?" he chuckles, and she nods. Then, he says, "Tastes like medicine. Let's get another flavor next time."  
  
Nayeon remembers thinking that she likes it, so she licks her lips to confirm his sentiment. "Mm... I think it tastes good," she contests, so he spends the rest of the minutes before 8 A.M. proving her wrong. (Where would the heirs of multimillion-dollar companies be if they weren't so competitive, after all?)  
  
By 5 P.M., the school day is done, and Nayeon is either packing up things from her locker or making out with Bambam in an empty classroom. Today, it's Bambam in an empty classroom, because he bought her cherry-flavored lipgloss and said he wanted to try it.  
  
The clock reads 5:18 and her lips feel like they're going to fall off by the time she breaks away and tells him that she has to go. It's always like this, too. She says she has to go. She still has a club meeting and night classes. And he makes adorable little whining noises, or he smiles, or he pouts, and puts his hand someplace it shouldn't be and tells her no, stay, come on, just a few more minutes, please, baby, please, 'Na, then her knees feel weak and they kiss until 5:29. If she runs fast enough, she'll be on time for whatever club meeting she has that day. If she runs fast enough, she'll be on time for night classes.  
  
Today, the Academic Achievers' Club is meeting to study Current Events. The Academic Decathlon is nearing, and everyone's buzzing about the news: Seondeok is joining again. Seondeok Girls' High School, whom they beat two years ago, and won first place last year, and the year before that, is out for blood--specifically, Haneul Girls' High School blood. They're the first to break Seondeok's winning streak, and the girls over there are just as unforgiving as the girls on Nayeon's side of the fence.  
  
By 11 p.m., night classes are done, and she's on the last bus home, makeup smudged and hair a little messy, taking up two seats with the heaviness of her bag and the amount of books she always has to carry home. She always falls asleep and wakes up just in time for her stop. She always takes off her heels so she can walk a little faster home, because Seoul is safe but unforgiving. Because it's late, and she still has three essays to write.


End file.
